


street smarts

by thorkidumpster



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Drunken Shenanigans, Frigga (Marvel) Knows All, M/M, Morning After, norse divorce laws are weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkidumpster/pseuds/thorkidumpster
Summary: thor comes home with a little more than he left with, and loki's plan for riches works out less than perfectly.





	street smarts

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyyy if this sounds familiar to you, it's probably because it is. this was originally uploaded under an old handle of mine and i'm reuploading it now because i'm nice like that.
> 
> check me out on tumblr @ thorkidumpster

 

* * *

 

The sun.

A truly marvelous star, really—without it, plants would wither and die, the ground would freeze, and the realm would plunge into a darkness to rival Jotunheim itself.

But as far as Thor was concerned, the sun could mind its own business and shine somewhere else, which is why the city of Asgard was treated to a very localized rainstorm. The townspeople just rolled their eyes and moved any valuables under tarps—it was very fashionable now-a-days to wear the tarps wrapped around the waist. Hellishly hot for the legs, but hey, when the Crown Prince summons rain upon becoming distressed, upset, frustrated, or simply because he damn well pleases, one learns to be prepared… always. At least it no longer stormed several times a day because the Queen was a half second late putting him to the nipple.

Said Crown Prince and Bringer of (exasperating) Rain rolled over, content enough with the sun flicked off like a light. This was a fairly normal occurrence in the mornings, when Thor simply didn’t want to rise. What wasn’t normal, however, was the stunning pain in his head, his cotton-dry mouth, and the grunt that came from something large and warm in his bed.

Thor peeked open a red rimmed eye, feeling quite sure he should be the only large and warm thing in the bed. “Uhhh…?”

“Mmmm.” The lump returned, quite intelligently for a lump.

Thor let his head fall back to the pillow, deciding this was a matter better left to the morning—or, rather, what he considered to be ‘morning’, though others might more accurately describe the time as ‘early afternoon’.

When Thor awoke again—feeling only marginally better, but just well enough to stop the whole of Asgard from flooding—a niggling thought prickled his brain. But like a cat stretching the door to be let inside, the idea slipped away as soon as Thor reached for it. Something rather important happened last night, in the strange hour between night and dawn. He recalls the dim purple light on the horizon, and finding good fortune in the wondrous display… right before he emptied his stomach in the bushes as someone giggled.

“Goodness, but you are up late.” The voice sounded worse than Thor looked, gravelly and dry.

Thor bolted upright, nearly tumbling out of bed. “What—who—”

“Words,” a man chided. He was seated at Thor’s own vanity, unknotting his long, black hair with his fingers despite the array of golden combs laid out. Thor felt heat rise up his neck—the man, who ever he was, was both very beautiful, and very nude. He sat obscenely, legs spread far wider than was possibly comfortable, as though he wanted to draw attention to his soft cock.

“Uh…” Thor cleared his throat. He was far too hungover for this. Why hadn’t someone thrown the man out yet? Why did he have to handle this?

His prayer was answered—but not, perhaps, in the manner Thor had wished.

“Thor Odinson!”

The man cocked an eyebrow.

Thor had just enough time to scramble for a pillow to cover his own nakedness when Frigga threw open the chamber doors, a whirlwind of motherly indignation. “You got married?! Your father is going to hear about this—”

He did? Thor cut a glance to the stranger, who did not look shocked in the least. In fact, the man smiled and gave him a wink in the mirror. “We did.”

Frigga paused, mouth dipping open. “Ah…?”

“Loki,” the man grunted helpfully. He didn’t bother closing his legs, too entangled in the task of brushing out his hair.

There were, without a doubt, many things in the realms to be scared of; bilgesnipe, his combat instructors, geese… but not even a feathery, honking hell-bird could compare to the terror that coursed through Thor as his mother raised a single, disapproving brow. “Loki,” she repeated flatly. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Not really. More hungry than charmed.”

Thor covered his face. “Loki…”

Loki snorted. “Oh, don’t give me that, you didn’t even know my name until two seconds ago.”

He had a point. If Thor were a truly a man grown—and not a boy having only reached his age of majority, which he promptly celebrated with copious amounts of alcohol and by marrying a whore—he might have endeavored to solve the problem on his own. As it were, Thor turned quivering lip to his Queen Mother and sulked with the might of a small child.

Frigga glanced towards the still-nude Loki and sighed. With a shake of her head, she said, “Darling, the marital laws of Asgardian royalty are very clear—a marriage can only be broken through abuse of one partner—which would lead to immediate exile, Thor, put that down—or the publication of rude prose regarding a spouse.”

“Thor,” Loki murmured, wrinkling his nose, “rhymes with bore…boor…door? Whore…”

Thor bristled. “And how well does Loki rhyme with hokey?”

Loki nodded appreciatively. “Marvelously. Publish it, I say! Let the name of Loki be slandered throughout the kingdom fair!”

Just as Thor was about to pat himself on the back and call it a day so he could curl back up in bed, Frigga pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, Thor. Do not.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Loki sang, “as the offended party, I would be entitled to half your wealth and land holdings.”

“So that’s why you married me?”

Loki made a put upon, wounded noise, but didn’t contradict him. “Perhaps. Now, get to that poem please, I have a client to meet tomorrow and it might be awkward to get fucked while—”

“Loki!”

“What?” Loki scoffed.

Thor jerked his head towards his mother, who was wearing her Disapproving Face.

Loki wrinkled his nose. “I’m quite sure she knows what fucking is,” he said slowly, like Thor was a rather stupid child. “I believe she’s done it before.”

Thor launched himself to his feet, sending his modesty pillow flying. “You filthy mouthed—”

“Me?!” Loki overrode. “Do you have any idea where your tongue was last night?”

“I don’t even remember where **_I_** was last night!”

Loki opened his mouth, but Frigga cleared her throat. When both pairs of eyes—one furious, the other, annoyed—were on her, she lifted a single finger and said, “Pants.”

Thor was, in turns, confused, upset at her disregard, then mortified. He scrambled for a pair laying on the floor—the same richly decorated pair he had worn last night, obviously, though they stank of a brewery and were torn apart at the seams. Still, they made for decent covering.

Loki positioned a handkerchief from Thor’s vanity over his cock, more to be an ass than anything else.

“So. About this divorce?” Loki inquired to the room at large. “It’s not as though I can initiate it. If we could hurry this along, that’d be wonderful. I have an estate already picked out.”

Frigga adopted a shrewd, calculating expression. “You know… the Norns show their influence in mysterious ways.”

“Mom?”

“Think on it: your spouse, your other half, a common street whore—”

“Hey,” Loki protested. He didn’t say anything more when they paused to give him space for an objection, just sniffed.

“—it would be as though you joined with the laypeople people of Asgard. Not to mention, a _smart_ whore. More intelligent than he lets on, I hazard.” She stared at Loki with eyes that had seen the inner workings of the Realms; eyes that were privy to the Norns secret workings.

“What a statement,” Loki demurred. “However, untrue.”

Frigga hummed. Thor glanced back and forth between the two, locked in some silent argument.

“Oh, no.” Frigga’s smile grew sharp. “No, no. This will do perfectly, I think. Clear your schedule—the only appointment you have tomorrow is your etiquette class, Consort Loki.”

Loki froze. “My what now?”

“We’ll make you into a proper spouse for the Prince, don’t you worry your pretty head. I shall personally teach you your letters and numbers, and outline your responsibilities…”

“My _what_?”

Frigga bent to pat his pale cheek. “Well, of course! Did you think being the husband to a Prince was going to be all furs and silks? Goodness. If only! No, us Queens run the realm, Loki—we see to all the tawdry gear-cleaning whilst the Kings play war. No sleeping all day or lounging in gold jewelry or being pampered, I’m afraid.”

Loki looked thunderstruck. “But I—”

“Tut. If that’s what you wanted, you should’ve petitioned as a royal concubine. You would have spent all day in scented bathes, your hair brushed and oiled, your face massaged with the sweetest of creams… alas. That is not the life you’ve chosen.”

“I want a do over.”

Frigga just smiled apologetically and lifted a careless shoulder, eyes glittering. Loki gave her a distinctly mulish pout and Thor snorted a chuckle. Feeling no small delight in that Loki’s scheme failed, Thor offered his elbow. “Shall we get dressed, husband dear?”

“I hate you,” Loki sniffed.

“We have a long day ahead, darling mine.”

“I will stab you.”

“After dinner,” Thor advised, forgoing the arm and yanking Loki up to drag him towards the closet. “If I’m going to get my arse whipped for this, I want to scandalize Father a little.”

Loki perked up at that. He snatched a silken night shirt off the hook, along with satin sleeping pants, a soft, brightly colored scarf, and a jeweled belt. “We might scandalize?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Oh,” Loki hummed. “How delightful. Say, have you more silk? Perhaps the Lady Queen dresses modestly, but _I_ shall not be so encumbered…”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> lmao yeah so the two stipulations for divorce were actually a real thing in ye olde viking era. abuse or rude publications were grounds for instant divorce, with the offended party getting half of everything.


End file.
